


Artificial Shades

by Acidqueen (syredronning)



Category: Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: ASCEM, M/M, Spiced Peaches
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-09-23
Updated: 2010-09-23
Packaged: 2017-10-12 03:23:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 379
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/120239
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/syredronning/pseuds/Acidqueen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Musing in sickbay.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Artificial Shades

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Spiced Peaches, Vol. II. Thanks to JBC for the beta.
> 
> Originally posted July 2005.

I stand in the door and look into the room where you are sleeping. It's dark, and all I can see is your contour against the white light of the console in the background.

At least, that's what I see at first. But you taught me to see between the lines and watch the areas, the shadows that make the picture.

I slip into the room and override the computer to keep it dark. Slowly my eyes get accustomed to the dim light. I draw closer to watch your features, the dark gray on the side facing me, the toneless white on the other. One slanted eyebrow there, one half of your adorable mouth; one weirdly crooked reminder of your pointed ear, hidden under your hair and in the crease where your head presses against the pillow. On the shady side, the eyebrow  
dark, the lashes a faint line; your half-lips almost black, as if they belonged to a dead man. In the middle, the blank tip of your nose pronounced, pointing at the ceiling. I trace the thin line between darkness and light over your chin down to your throat and the collar of your shirt, follow it over the blanket's folds to end on your chest.

I take your hand - your dark one - and lift it up. One part of me automatically measures the pulse; a larger part watches the dance of tones on its back, the way my fingers cast deep shadows on its round curve.

Suddenly, your fingertips reach for the light as they clasp my hand. For a moment I'm relieved, but I know it's just your subconscious showing up or maybe a little muscle reflex, because you're still far away.

"Doctor?" someone whispers through the open door. "Any improvements?"

I look over my shoulder and shake my head. "Not yet, Christine. But that was to be expected."

She leaves and I, knowing that all anyone would be able to see was my dark back in front of a dark figure, lift your hand up further and place a kiss on it.

Then I put it on the bed, back into the shadow. But I don't need light anymore to see your true colors. And in a few days, you'll be back with me.


End file.
